A/N: This was originally intended as a one-shot but my fingers started typing and before I knew it, chapter two was birthed.

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Cloud found Tifa in the cellar later that afternoon. She was never especially talkative in the time he had known her, not even as a youth in Nibelheim. But his childhood friend appeared to be especially tense and evasive. As they worked through unpacking the stock earlier in the day, he witnessed her make any number of mistakes when taking inventory and kicked aside empty cardboard boxes, slamming cabinet doors and growling in frustration with whatever was occupying her mind. It was very much out of character for Tifa, who was normally so well-rehearsed in these chores that she could run rings around him in the bar, dutifully completing them blindfolded without error. She had always been that way. It was something he admired greatly about her.

Thud, swoosh, whack, whack, swoosh, thud.

Tifa didn't acknowledge his presence as he stepped down and leaned against a crate behind her, lost in her thoughts as she unleashed mercilessly against the reinforced punch bag installed in the corner of the dark cellar. A single light bulb hanging by a chain and power cord shook from the force of each punch and kick connecting with the manikin. She was startled slightly when he finally spoke out. Cloud had to smile a little, he saw her stoic posture return after she froze, quelling any hint that she may have been surprised. Tifa seldom showed any sign she had been startled, thanks to her mastery of martial arts. He offered a shy smile.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" She clenched her fist.

"You. You're not okay."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. And I am gonna press you until you spill, just like you won't let us stew... I don't like seeing you upset..."

"It's nothing, Cloud." She snarled, pivoting into a kick, landing it into the jaw of the manikin.

"It's kinda foolish to get yourself so wound up over nothing, don't you agree?"

The brawler spun on her heel, cracking her knuckles; challenging Cloud, "Come again?"

"I'm here for you when you wanna talk," he offered another small smile, turning to start climbing the stairs. He wasn't in the mood to offer himself up as a punching bag to the woman before him, fully capable of decimating an enemy using her hands alone.

Tifa slumped her shoulders, mustering an exasperated sigh.

"It's her. Actually noI mean its me I am pissed with..."

Cloud furrowed his brow as he turned to face the martial artist once more. Tifa could only have been referring about Aerith. In their brief time travelling together as AVALANCHE, Aerith had managed to get under Tifa's skin. Initially the group had assumed they were competing over Cloud; though as weeks passed, they were slowly proven wrong.

Admittedly, it had taken Cloud some time to accept the idea but it was apparent to bystanders that Tifa and Aerith were closer than friends, yet seemingly unwilling to push their relationship further than heated ocular exchanges. There had been an occasion prior to the cargo ship from Junon in which Cloud had walked in on Tifa and Aerith, clad only in towels. He had no intention of sticking around to find out why Tifa was standing inches from Aerith's face, for Tifa's piercing glare had turned to him; her eyes narrowing and willed him from the room. On the evening of their final night in Costa Del Sol, Yuffie had taken bets on whether or not Tifa and Aerith had laid each other out yet. Their companions had rolled their eyes at the crass choice of words. Tifa had recoiled in embarrassment when Yuffie asked, and menacingly chased Yuffie barefoot into the sunset along the beach. Aerith had watched lovingly, face cupped in her hands, cradling the blush on her cheeks. Curiously, he felt endeared to them both.

In the end it didn't matter; as Masamune speared through Aerith's abdomen, Cloud's heart had broken twice. Once for Aerith as her life was taken, second as he heard Tifa cry out and watched Tifa mourning the only person who had managed to crush her own social boundaries, and the savior of the planet. The mischievous sparkle had left Tifa's eyes, replaced with a vengeful fury as they came unto their final confrontation before Sephiroth. She fought hard against any feelings of depression she might have felt as she soldiered on for Marlene and Denzel through the geostigma outbreak; and struggled with the blood on her hands over the guilt she harbored, feeling that she contributed to Aerith's death. Cloud loved Tifa dearly, and it tore him apart knowing he could not soothe the ache in her heart. So, when he met with Aerith seeking forgiveness, he pleaded to the lifestream for solution. The lifestream looks fondly on Cloud Strife, so it seems.

He smiled a little bigger that day, when he received a delivery order, one day in March.

Pickup location: Forgotten City Springs

To: Tifa Lockhart, Edge

Special Delivery Request: Seventh Heaven is to be closed on day of delivery.

Tifa had been incredibly dubious of the request to keep the bar closed on the day of April 18th, but agreed that she would not open its doors. She had been working her tail end off trying to afford school supplies for the children, on top of the daily expenses that didn't grant reprieve. One day off wouldn't hurt at all. She embraced Cloud goodbye a week prior to the specified date, and told him to be safe as always- unaware of what he was picking up and where he was going.

Aerith was a vision, when Cloud dismounted Fenrir at the precipice of the lake. The delivery request had asked for Cloud to bring female clothing, and he risked limbs trying to remove Aerith's old white and blue dress from Tifa's closet. Bashful, he handed the dress to a very nude Aerith, covered only by the locks of her long auburn hair. Like a gentleman, he averted his gaze. With grateful green eyes, Aerith remarked that she appreciated the gesture; mentioning that even in death, Zack Fair was still a ladies' man, and would not have been quite as respectful as Cloud.

Dressed, she carefully walked toward Cloud, embracing him. He welcomed her home. Apologetic that he hadn't a mode of transportation befitting to the woman responsible for saving the planet, she shook her head and reassured Cloud that riding a motorcycle was of no nuissance to her. "Silly Chocobo," She cooed. He would never understand just how liberating the air felt whipping her hair, or how delightful it felt to hold onto another living human being once again.

When they returned to Edge, Tifa was in the bar drinking a beer at a table. Her face softened when Cloud opened the door, smiling slightly. The smile disappeared, replaced by a concoction of disbelief and despair when Aerith walked into her line of sight, into her bar.

"Cloud you've done some pretty fucked up stuff in your time but you're over stepping a line by bringing ghosts here, you sick bastard," Her voice cracked, "I can torture myself-"

Tifa's legs would not hold her as they buckled, her hands retreating to cover her eyes as she crumbled down against a wall. Tears soaked her thick lashes as they spilled down her face.

Unable to tolerate her friend weeping, Aerith glided towards the fighter's slumped form, crouched and pulled Tifa into her chest. She buried her face into masses of long black hair and kissed the woman's crown, "I am here, dummy. I'm back."

Cloud quietly exited the bar. He figured he would give them their space, and should send word out to their comrades that the flower girl had come to the City of Edge. He'd made good on his promises that he made to both women, long ago. He's a hero, of sorts.

Irked by Cloud's lack of response, she threw one last punch at the bag. Inhaling, she began again.

"Cloud, I tried to seduce her. And we were drunk. And I lost my nerve and.." The rest of her sentence was mumbled as she tore off her gloves.

"Where is she now?" He asked, searching through her burgundy eyes.

"I'm not sure... she left before I woke. I'd assume she went to see Elmyra."

"She'll be back." He patted her shoulder. His actions were a little more awkward than he'd have hoped.

"Oh, you think so do you? I'm not sure you understand how it feels to be on the receiving end of false pretense."

"That was pretty cold, Tifa."

"I know."

"She won't want to allow the sun to set on anger."

Tifa sighed again, shaking her head into her palm as she wiped sweat from her brow. Cloud took his leave, and walked up the stairs.

"Cloud. I'm sorry I'm a jerk."

"You're not a jerk Tifa. You're in love."